A Study on the Representation of Women in the Hunter Exam
by Memburg
Summary: I am Sister Sarkeesian. This is the story of my rise to oppress the men through my mastery of nen. Trigger warning: Men dying.
1. Chapter 1

Good morning, my humble followers. I am writing to you from my humble abode in Lopsided Booby island, where I intend to leave in a few weeks to pursue my career as a man hunter. I am consistently abused and oppressed on my home island, and it is for that reason that I am documenting my story, so that perhaps one day, the world may read my account and know the truth, that all men are pure evil, and that we women, the superior race, will exist in harmony upon the clouds of heaven with our female gods as a wealth of gables tower above, showering us with anti-trigger agent.

Speaking of that aptly named gun compon-

"I shouldn't've written that." I say, out loud. "Guns trigger me." I set my eraser to the page, watching the offensive words fade into nothingness. As I rub, I seem reminded of the futility men represent in our society, how they whine and complain about their own rights yet they forget we wield the tools to have them fade away at our whim. Life is strange like that, I suppose.

 _Knock knock._

The knocking triggers me.

"Who is it?" I ask in contempt. My friend Chanty Binks walks in, her red hair agonisingly bright, yet I feel a strange sense of warmth knowing that she too knows that red represents the burning of the patriarchy. "Hey." I say. "What's up?"

"FUCK YOU." She screams, her lungs tearing up, alveoli audibly bursting, before she slams the door. I guess the patriarchy triggered her pretty hard, then again, I empathise with that so well I can't even feel angry at her. I turn back to my diary, adorned with the slogans of famous feminists and the occasional bible passage. I start feeling writer's block. It triggers me. I stand up, and walk downstairs in my underwear. Thankfully, I'm a strong, upstanding female, so I can walk through the streets in any clothes. I exit my door and scream,

"BODY ACCEPTANCE!" I immediately receive a rotten tomato to the face. Lying on the ground, sticky redness engulfing my eyes, I feel like a recent Warcraft fan as I stand up and look around for my oppressor. No one is around, in fact, the alleyway I live in is surprisingly empty. Eh. I start skipping through the puddles in my bare feet, watching as the blobs of tomato fall off of my beautifully accepted body. I see a boat on the pier, floating up and down with the waves, carried on the low breeze. A mother of three walks past and shields her children's eyes. "ACCEPT ME." I scream at her. She and her children burst into tears and run away. They're clearly not accepting of the feminist regime, and that's their problem.

 _Bwooooooooooo_

I hear a foghorn and a man on the docks waving his arms, "ALL ABOARD, ALL ABOARD!" I skip over,

"What's all the commotion?" I ask.

"The boat to the Hunter exam is leaving, miss! Aren't you going?" I stop for a second.

"I thought that wasn't leaving for another two weeks?" He doesn't say anything. I notice his eyes snap to my cleavage and back to my face. My vision goes red.

"Sir," I say, "Whatever you are, lesser being…"

"Excuse me, miss-,"

"KEEP YOUR HATESPEECH OFF OUR CAMPUS!" I shove him into the ocean where he is churned into chunks of flesh by the rotor blades of the ship. I look around. No one's noticed. I make a break for the ship. I suppose my adventure began in a way I didn't plan for.


	2. Chapter 2

The deck of the ship is made of a sleek, varnished wood. This wouldn't be a problem, but wood is a term associated with erections. I start running through the corridors, looking for a carpeted cabin. I find a room labelled, "6969" and choose the one thirty doors down at "7000." Wouldn't want to exist around such exploitive images. Inside is a double bed, a desk with a dated Windows XP laptop, and a balcony looking out over the horizon. I turn to look at the bed. I see a friendly, harmless woman, on her hands and knees, expressing her body through the art of nakedness. I feel a want to congratulate her on being body confident, when I notice the man balls deep in her ass, his disgusting body unclothed and without a trigger warning. My vision turns a dark crimson as I lift him up and chuck him at full force over the balcony, where he floats like a buoy back to dry land. I turn to the woman, shaken by the rape of her oppressor,

"Please!" I say, "Go and find a safe space as quick as possible!" She spits in my face and runs out the door, clutching a towel to her breasts. "You should be proud of your body!" I call after her. I sigh, looking around at the room. Thankfully, un-triggering carpet is here. I flop down on the bed, and immediately fall asleep, feeling all triggered out.

"Wake up."

"Fuck off."

"Wake up."

My eyes creak open, sleep crumbling around my face. I see a figure standing at the foot of my bed. She's tall, graceful, with pink highlights and huge wings spreading nearly the width of the cabin.

"Jesusa…" I say, feeling taken to a safe space by her warming eyes.

"Yes, my young warrior." She says, her voice loosening my meat flaps with its low, resonant quality, "I am Jesusa, and I have come to warn you. A great evil is coming. Footsteps march from the north, a great evil is massing, and the evil is armed with weapons of war, engines of fire and industry, and…" She takes a moment to grimace, "Penises."

"You can't…"

"I entrust the fate of this Aryan world to you, my chosen warrior."

A flash of light engulfs the room.

I'm still lying on my bed, the window open, the sound of police radios outside. I hear deep voices. Broken voices. The voice of Jesusa looms in my skull. "Kill them all." She says. "Kill them all."


	3. Chapter 3

I gaze around me at the scene of beautiful destruction. The corpses of men decorate the walls like filthy grim canvases. Their penises adorn the chandeliers like centrepieces on a banquet, a banquet fit only for women. I pick a pair of bawls off the floor and start chewing them like a pair of gobstoppers.

As I'm looking around, I start to feel something I can't describe. It's like there's this… acidic quality to the saliva I produce, this corrosiveness to the enzymes in my body. I feel my face start to go green as I run for the balcony and vomit my feast of bawls into the ocean. A distant splosh, and I start to level with myself again. The ship is lunging forward, near leaping over the waves like a dolphin over… eh. Something. (simile game strong today lads)

Looking over the edge as the sun creeps down over the horizon, I get this warmth that displaces the acidity of earlier.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" I turn, and there's a man standing there, wearing a low-buttoned shirt and flared trousers. His hair reminds me of mine.

"Yep." I say, looking back out to sea, "Just the wind and the waves." Wait. "Who are you again?" I turn to face the man, and he's gone. I turn back out to sea. Whatever just happened… Jesus. I'll think about it later.

The ship carries on its course for many hundreds of miles, catching storms, throwing waves behind it and sailing in circles after the captain found a sharp with a malformed fin. He was offending it for its body. We all know how that ends. Of course, without a captain, no one had any fucking idea where we were going, so eventually, the ship crashed and I landed head first on a pile of jagged rocks. Thankfully, I was unharmed due to the weight of the patriarchy being crushed beneath me breaking my fall. God bless America.

Walking around on the beach, sandy dunes engulfing my surroundings, a tiny cave seems to make itself clear, it has a strange glowing quality to it. As I start walking towards it, I start to hear voices, loud chatter. I walk inside, and see an ovular cave, sheathed in metal, with an ensemble of conveniently colourful characters scattered around it. A few of them turn to look at me. Keeping my cool, I keep walking inside, the floor is sandy but not uncomfortably so. A group of… ugh… men… look over at me, and beckon me over.

"Morning," The one in the centre says, with his long, curly, Jesus-like hair, "Welcome to the exam. Enjoy your trip?"

"Trip?" I ask, my vision turning crimson, "Are you suggesting I'm a drug addict?"

"What?" He says, "No, I just wanted to know if you're-,"

 _Shing._

A white light flashes across the cavern. The man splits in two, his blood coating the walls, his friends… everyone.

Total silence falls like a veil.

Then…

Everyone starts to run. They all charge into the darkness of the cave, dragging whatever items they had behind them, screaming "WITCH! WITCH!"

And now… I'm alone. But wait… there's a figure emerging from the darkness.

"Hey!" I call out. A man in a trench coat, clad in fedora uncloaks from the shadows.

"M'lady." He says.


End file.
